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iiammg s QII|tUun 

AND 

OTHER POEMS 



Some bits of humor and truth 

gathered at first hand from 

among my people 




U:iG: WILSON 

Harrisonburg, Va. 

Price 40 Cents 



Copyriprht 1920 
by 
U. G. Wilsoa 



©C1A572723 



M2\ 1920 



oP-" 



FOREWORD 

The condition of illiteracy which was forced upon 
the Nci^ro before his emancipation, and which yet pre- 
vails in many localities, is probably responsible for the 
reputation he enjoys of I)eing the author of a peculiar 
wit and pliilosophy not possessed by other races. This 
same circumstance has also militated against the expres- 
sion of tliat philosophy and wit in the linguistic excel- 
lence that characterizes the diction of more favored 
racial groups. This'' very fact, however, serves as a 
means of attracting attention to his many crude utter- 
ances of wit, wisdom, and humor, to the end that some- 
body is not only entertained but cheered and strength- 
ened in journeying along life's rugged way. It is the 
desire to share in this good work by making available 
to the reading public some bits of this native humor and 
truth, gathered at first hand, which has prompted me 
to send forth these lines — together with the wish to 
pay a tribute of love to the memory of my sainted 
Father and Mother. 

U. G. WILSON 



®ablp nf (HanUntB 



Mammy's Chillun 1 

Angie Clears The Way 2 

Uncle Ned's Observations 3 

A Sermon Boiled Down 4 

The River Of Time 5 

The Seasons 6 

The Noble 7 

Negro Soldiers In The World War 7 

Since Mammy Died 9 

Aunt Chlo' On Friendship 9 

A Predicament 10 

Calling The Dark-Town Parson 11 



MAMMY'S CHILLUN 



Some folks wants lots o' chillun 

A-runnin' roun' about; 
Dey says a home widout 'em 

Is a mighty po' make-out. 

But if dey had my young uns, 
Dey'd sing a difF'unt song, 

Dey'd say, "Good Lawd, delibbah, 
An' let it be fo' long." 

Ise got six pesky young uns, 
Dat worries me ter deaf; 

Dey don't give dere ole mammy 
De time ter ketch her brcf. 

Dat one, he wants some 'lasses; 

Dis one, he wants some bread; 
One done upsot de baby 

An' pitched him on his head. 

Den one he gits to fightin' 

Anur-r little brat; 
De gal she starts ter bawlin' 

Kase Joe done kill her cat. 

At night it ain't no better; 

It's "Come here, iMammy, please, 
Kase Ben's got all de kiver, 

An' I'se about ter freeze." 

Sometimes dey yells aroun' me 
From mornin' until night. 

Unless I want some work done — 
Den ain't a one in sight. 

Now, all dem who wants chillun' 
Jes' come and 'ply ter me; 

I'll give 'em six an' pay 'em 
Ter sot dere mammy free. 



ANGIE CLEARS THE WAY 

"Bill Jones, why don't yer be a man 

An' speak out jes' fer once? 
Yer keep a comin' ter my house 

An' actin' like a dunce. 

"Yer comes in here an' takes yer seat, 

'Way back dar by de do', 
An' when I 'gins ter inchin' up 

You's ready fer ter go. 

"Now, is yer skeered o' sump'n, Bill? 

Come, tell yer Angelinc: 
What is it dat is 'plexin' you 

An' restin' on yer min'? 

"Now, ain't yer thinkin' 'bout de joy 

O' havin' of a wife 
Ter cook yer eatin's, patch yer clo'es, 

An' comfort yer through life — 

"An' wants ter ask yo' Angeline 

Ter be yo' lovin' bride, 
An' ain't got nerve to 'spress yo'se'f 

Fer fear o' bein' denied? 

"Now, Bill, if dat's de trouble, pshaw! 

Here's all I got ter say: 
Jes' speak right out in meetin', kase 

Dar's nuffin' in de way." 

"0 Angeline! O Angeline! 

Ise happy as can be! 
Yer sho did lif a burden when 

Yer spoke dem words ter me. 

"Ise got de nerve ter ax yer now; 

An' ax yer sho I will: 
Can't yer give up yer loneliness 

An' tie up ter yo' Bill?" 

"Of cose! Lawd knows I loves yer, Bill! 

Come, 'brace yo' honey tight! 
Now — um — um — um — umph ! 

We'll tie de knot tonight." 



UNCLE NED'S OBSERVATIONS 



If yer see a toatl a-jumpin' 
Like he iiuvvali jumped befo' 

iOr a roostah 'gins ter cackle 
An' lie hens dey 'gins ter crow, 

If de sunimah nights git shorter 
An' de day keeps gittin' long — 

Now, dar ain't no use in talkin', 

Kase dar's sunip'n done gone wrong. 

Dar's a snake somewhar a-crawlin' 
'Bout dat lively jumpin' toad, 

An' de ole hen's gone ter strikin', 
An' de roostah's got de load. 

Now de worl' am cuttin' capers 
Dat am mos' too hard fer me; 

But dar's sump'n wrong when actions 
Ain't jes' like (ley use ter be. 

If yer see a widdah woman 
Primpin' up an' gettin' gay, 

An' she got some kind of 'gagemenl 
Wid de parson every day — 

If some politishin feller 

Comes an' grabs yer by de han' 
Pats yer on de back an tells you 

Dat he is de people's man — 

Dar is sump'n wrong, I tell yer, 
An' dar aint no bettah sign; 

Dat ar little primpin' widdah 
Done got sump'n on her min'. 

An' de politishin' feller. 
He is in de same ole boat, 

Kase he's runnin' for some office. 
An' jes' wants ter git yer vote. 



A SERMON BOILED DOWM 

Sly sisfahs an'^ my brucld'rin' 

Assembled here ter day, 
I'll talk a little Sbripter, 

An' den we'll sing an'' pray^ 

I wants yer all to listen, 

Bofe saint an' sinner man; 
Ivase what Ise now expressin' 

Am hard to undahs'tan. 

Be good to dem daf cuss yer, 
De beam take f'oni yo' eyes. 

An' when you'^ neighbor slaps yer,,. 
Don't let yo' temper rise. 

But turn right roun*^ an tell hira 

l)c job ain't quite complete; 
Den git some soap an' wattah 

An' wash his dirty feet. 

Don't covet f'om yo' neighboh: 

Don't try ter take his life; 
His ox yer mus'n pester; 

Don't think about his wife. 

Don't M'^orry 'bout yer eatin's 
Or what yer's gwine to w'ar;, 

Do like de birds an' lilies — 
Jes' loaf aroun' somewhar. 

De Han' dat feeds de sparrer 

Will give ter me an' you; 
Jes' loaf aroun' and trus' Him,, 

Dat's all yer got ter do. 

Now brudderin' an' sistahs, 

De hour am gittin' late; 
We'll stop right here a minnif 

An' pass aroun' de plate. 

I wants a good collection: 

De parson mus' be fed; 
He mus'n steal his chickens. 

Nor beg his daily bread; 

He's got to hab terbacker; 

De madam mus' hab snufT; 
An' nickels, dimes, an' pennies 

Ain't gwine ter make enough. 

So come along, my sistahs! 

Some bruddah sing a shout! 
Now make de quartahs jingle, 

But keep de buttons out. 



THE RIVER OP TIMI: 



Time, thou deep and mystic river-, 

Ever rolling swiftly by, 
Thou dost bear upon thy bosom 

Universal destiny. 

Men of every clime and nation 

Sport upon thy sickly shore. 
Spend one little hour, then, gathered 

By thy waves, are seen aio more. 

Kingdoms ride upon thy l)reakers. 

Empires mount thy surges high, 

(Great men swim awhile thy shallow's, 

Play their little part— and die. 

JVIightv. swiftly-rolling river, 

Millions on thy banks now stand, 

Soon to hear the solemn summons 
To the unknown spirit land. 

Though threescore and ten bleak winters 
Stainp their impress on the brow. 

Though the step, once lirm and steady, 
May be slow and feeble now; 

Yet, abiding hills and valleys 
Mock the brief sojourn of man; 

And the oldest earthly pilgrim 
Is but born, in God's great plan. 

Seas once lashed in wrath by Xerxes^ 
Hills that felt great Caesar's tread. 

Mountains scaled by proud Napoleon 
Still remain; but they are dead. 

Aged and hoary things terrestrial 
But one lesson teach — sublime: 

Mortal life is but a ripple 

Dancing on the stream of time. 



THE SEASONS 



^Mien nature wakes, and robes itself in 
green. 
And blossoms sweet witli fragance fill fbe 
air. 
And birds of sirnny climes are heard and 
seen, 
Dispensing blithesome music ev'rywhere, 
'Tis spring. 

When higher clindjs the sun, mid clearer 
skies. 
And fruit and flowers and fields of golden 
grain 
Bring beauteous scenes of landscape to our 
eyes, 
And man and beast seek shady haunts 
again, 

'Tis summer. 

When verdant spring and summer's golden 
hue 
Have vanished with the passing of the year, 
And cooler winds, no longer dank with dew. 
Blow mournful strains across the wood- 
land sere, 
'Tis autumn. 

When noon-day shades their dwarfy lengths 
extend. 
And chillier winds their blasts begin to 
blow. 
And life retires, a while in sleep to spend 
Beneath the white-spread canopy of snow, 
'Tis winter. 

Thus hath this transient, changing human 
life 
Its spring-time, summer, fall, and wintry 
blast : 
Each feels the joys and pangs of earthly 
strife ; 
Each mortal sleeps the sleep of death, at 
last. 



THE NOBLE 

What if but a lowly cabin 

Marks the spot where we were born? 
What if shattered were the windows, 

And the doorstep old and worn? 
What though flowers of wealth and fashion 

Ne'er did bloom for me or you? 
We are noble, my dear brother, 

If we nobly think and do. 

Though mid scenes of classic splendor 

Other eyes first saw the light; 
Though by royal hands and tender 

Some are shielded day and night — 
Whether born in deepest thralldom 

Or 'neath freedom's skies of blue, 
We are only noble, brother. 

If we nobly think and do. 

They who could not keep the monster 

Want outside their cottage door 
Fought the battles of this nation. 

Spilt their blood from shore to shore. 
Oft they've liumble hands extended 

To the sick and dying, too: 
These are noble deeds — each prompted 

By a heart that's pure and true. 

Cease thy boasts, O proud descendants 

Of the favored of the earth; 
Cease thy boasts of wealth and kindred; 

Cease to frown on lowly birth. 
'Tis not man's exalted station; 

'Tis not wealth, nor race, nor hue: 
W'C are only noble, brother, 

When the heart is pure and true. 



NEGRO SOLDIERS IN THE WORLD WAB 

O'er all the w^orld, for human rights, 

The war-cloud doth descend. 
And men are called from every land 

That standard to defend. 

From city, town, and country-side, 

From mountain top to sea. 
Rings out once more the battle cry, 

"Make way for liberty!" 



I see the lads of sable hue — 

True i)atriots, one and all — 
Come rushing to the listing place 

In answer to the call. 

I see them bid their friends goodby 

When starting for the camp; 
I see the sparkle in their eye; 

I hear their steady tramp. 

I see them board the transport ship 
And give one longing glance; 

I see them wave one last adieu, 
Then sail away for France. 

I see them on the battlefield, 

A true and valiant band; 
Their captain bids them face the foe — 

They charge at his command. 

Mid gas and smoke and bursting shell. 

With banner lifted high. 
They fight their way to victory, 

While foemen quake and fly. 

Their white comrades — the Fifty-sixth — 

Have fallen into grief; 
Through vales of death they double-quick 

And rush to their relief. 

Before the walls of Metz they stand. 

Now many thousand strong; 
I hear them sing in jdaintive tones: 

"Our stay here won't be long." 

The tyrant sees impending doom 

And mercy doth implore; 
The terms of armistice are signed, 

And now the war is o'er. 

Thus hath the Negro played his part 
To make the whole world free. 

And give the boon of human rights 
To men across the sea. 

Forbid it. Lord, that e'er at home 

These blessings be denied 
To him, for which in other lands 

He fought and bled and died. 



SINCE MAMMY DIED 



No watchin' at de windah now, 
To see her boy come back; 

No welcome waitin' in de do'; 
No nice and tasty snack; 

Nobody tucks me in at night; 

Nobody lie'ps me do what's right — 
Since Mammy died. 

I miss de face dat use ter smile 

As I come up de road, 
De eyes dat noticed I was tired, 

De ban's dat eased my load; 
I miss de home-fire burnin' bright— 
In fac', de world it don't seem right 
Since Mammy died. 



AUNT CHLO' ON FRIENDSHIP 



Did yer ebber see yo' shadder 

On a bright an' sunny day, 
How it sticks ter yer an' mimics 

Eb'rything yer do an' say? 

Did you ebber see its capers 

When de clouds come in de sky, 

How it 'gins to scamper f'om yer, 
Fixin' fer ter say goodby ? 

Frien's is 'zackly like dem sh adders, 

Stickin' ter yer all de time 
When yer's got some cash an' eatin's. 

Plenty health an' in yo' prime; 

But w^hen hard luck obertakes yer, 
Health done gone an' money too. 

Den dey sneaks away an' leaves yer 
Jis like sunshine shadders do. 

Ise done come ter dis conclusion: 
Lay yer frien's all on de shelf; 

If 'tis cloudy or de sun shines. 
Try ter peg it out yerself. 



A PREDICAMENT 

[Tliese lines were written in 1904, suggested hy 
the attitude of Congress and the Supreme Court 
toward several test cases of disfranchisement, anil 
by a case of lynching in Ohio about the same time.| 

I hab ofttimes heard repeated 

Dese here words once dark ter me: 

"We is jis betwix' de debbil 
An' de deep bkie sea." 

But I neither knowed de meanin' 

Ob dem til jis here ob hite 
Wlien I lieard dey's lynchin' black folks 

In de great oF Buckeye State. 

Now, it use ter be de custom 

In de days ob long ago 
Dat de black folks got protechum. 

In de state ob 0-hi-o. 

But dey says things in Ohio 

Ain't no nio' like use ter be; 
So we's jis betwix de debbil 

An' de deep blue sea. 

When we take our suffrage troubles 

To de Nation's cote supreme, 
Hopin' fer ter git dat justice 

Dat hab bin our daily dream. 

We is tol' by dat tribunum, 
Wid politeness an' good grace, 

Dat dey lias no jurisdicshum — 
None what-ebber in de case. 

Some folks says: "Go up ter Congress, 
Whar dar's backbone in de men; 

If dar's any justice fer yer. 
You'll be sho to git it den." 

When we takes 'em up ter Congress, 
All dem statesmen 'gins to cry: 

"'Tis de cotes dat mus' decide 'em; 
We's got udder fish ter fry." 

It's a mighty hard way dealin' 
Wid de black folks — clar' it is; 

But it proves de one conchushum 
I hab come ter, dat is dis: 

Dat de black man's situashum 

In dis proud Ian' of de free 
Is jis somewhar twix' de debbil 

An' de deep blue sea. 



CALLING THE DAKK-TOWN PARBOIL 



The pai*son of the Dark-Town church 
Took sick one day and died. 

JHis people loved him for his gifts; 
Thai could not be denied. 

They said he'd hold the Bible up 
And Jioller, "Come down, Love!" 

Then shut his eyes and grit his teeth 
And coo just like a dove. 

To fdl his place the deacons met; 

They all were of one mind; 
They thought a man like Parson Jones 

Was mighty hard to find. 

Now many would-bes came around; 

The deacons tried them all, 
To see which one would suit the best, 

An who should get the call. 

The first, a well-trained college man. 

Essayed to win the prize: 
He preached in higlifalutin style; 

They did not bat tlreir eyes. 

When he sat down, a deacon said; 

"Dat man ain't gwine ter pass; 
I'd jes' lief hear de cymbals soun'> 

Or tinklin' of some brass." 

Another brother came around — 
Somehow, by hook or crook — 

He had no use for manuscript 
And wouldn't touch a book. 

He talked about two hours or more, 
Then fell down on his knees. 

The deacons shook their heads and said, 
"Dese folks am hard to please." 

Next Sunday morn the little church 

Was crowded just the same, 
To hear old brother Thunderbolt, 

Of Timber-Valley fame. 



The parson rose on scriefFure finie; 

He glanced his eyes around: 
**Ise glad fer see so many out 

Ter hear de Gospel soun', 

"My inferduction will be shorf; i 

De body I'll omit; 
I'll jump right in de rousemenf part:: 

An' den Ise gwine ter quit. 

"My frumpef ain't in trim today; ^ 

But if you hc'p me out, 
I'll do de very bes' I kin, 

Ter give yer all a shout. "^ 

He raised his voice an octave higher,. 

Pulled off a moaning stunt; 
The sisters all began to rock; 

The men began to grunt. 

He put his Bible on his head 

And scampered all about; 
That made the sisters shed their coats 

In readiness to shout. 

He stuck his lingers in his ears, 

And then began to sing; 
A deacon bellowed out, '"Come on! 

Dat's got de proper ring." 

He double-quicked to front and back. 

And rolled his eyes above, 
Then said three times in thunder tones, 

"COME DOWN, REDEEMIN' LOVE!" 

The brothers jumped up in the air; 

The sisters fell right out; 
The parson raised the closing hjinn, 

"Now let God's chillun shout!" M 

The deacons shook the parson's hand; 

The sisters fanned his brow; 
And all agreed, "Dis Dark-Town Church 

Sho's got some preacher now." 



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